


read the fine print later

by likecharity



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash February, Fingerfucking, First Time, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:04:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecharity/pseuds/likecharity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I'm just saying, if I die from letting H.G. Wells use her experimental sex inventions on me that's gonna be super embarrassing."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	read the fine print later

**Author's Note:**

> For Femslash February! Set sometime between 2x10 and 2x11 (I figure H.G. could make time for some sex in amongst all the secret plotting, right?). Title from 'Book of the Month' by Lovage.

Claudia is not at all sure how she ended up in this situation. One moment she and H.G. were just innocently hanging out in the living room at Leena's, bonding over the many wonders of the internet, and the next, they were—well. Doing _this_. 

Which is to say, they're making out in Claudia's bed. Kind of. A little bit. If you wanna get _technical_ about it.

She'd only asked if H.G. wanted to come up to her room and see her iPod—although, Claudia realizes now, that _could_ kinda sound like a pick-up line to someone who doesn't know what an iPod is. Either way, _this_ hadn't been on her mind, at least not until H.G. had moved in close and tucked a lock of Claudia's hair behind her ear and said something sweet in her awesome accent, and Claudia pretty much melted into a puddle. H.G.'s loyalty might be questionable at times, but one thing's for certain: the woman is _smooth_.

So, okay, it's not like Claudia hasn't ever thought about this before. H.G. is kind of a badass and Claudia's been in awe of her from the start. She might have been harboring a bit of a girlcrush for the past week or so, and had the occasional lesbionic dream. It's not like it's a big deal or anything, she's probably just rebounding from Todd or whatever. 

She's aware, though, that this maybe isn't the smartest way to do it. It's probably against some kind of Warehouse rule, for one thing, and she's not sure how she'd feel if Pete and Myka found out. (Artie's reaction doesn't even bear thinking about.) Plus, it still seems like no one's totally convinced that H.G. doesn't have some kind of ulterior motive (except Myka) and truth be told, Claudia's still just a little bit scared of her. Especially when she remembers what she said about the men who killed her daughter, that sudden strange deadness in her eyes, and the total ease with which she cut the crystals from MacPherson's neck and left him to die.

But, Claudia has long believed that in uncertain situations, it's always best to go with your gut, and what her gut is telling her right now...is that she really wants to fool around with H.G.

Okay, maybe something a little further south than her gut.

Either way, it's happening.

H.G. is straddling her, and they've been kissing for so long now that Claudia's lips are starting to ache. She shifts uncomfortably, aching between her legs as well, a steady pulse of arousal that started up pretty much the moment H.G. first touched her. H.G. breaks off the kiss, sitting up and smiling, her elegant hands trailing down Claudia's body. Her lips are bruised red, her usually-pale cheeks flushed, and her hair—gathered into a tidy up-do earlier today—is beginning to come loose from its tie, falling in messy little tendrils that frame her face. 

Claudia is kind of transfixed for a moment, because _really_ , how is one person allowed to look that good? H.G. could do the rest of the female population a favor and share some of her stupid amount of beauty, 'cause this just isn't fair. Claudia's distracted from that train of thought when she realizes that H.G.'s hands are lingering on her chest, gently squeezing at her boobs through her shirt and waistcoat. H.G. Wells—famous author, awesome inventor, total knockout—is actually _feeling Claudia up._

This, without question, is much more fun than trying to explain to H.G. how mp3 players work (especially seeing as she's barely even familiar with the concept of recorded music).

H.G. seems to have appointed Claudia with the job of getting her up to date on today's technology, and it's really kind of funny how utterly out of touch she is, how there are so many gadgets Claudia knows like the back of her hand that H.G.'s never even _seen_ before. Though, it doesn't make her any less intimidating. It doesn't change the fact that in her own time, H.G. was a total genius. She still _is_ a genius, as far as Claudia's concerned, even if she can't quite get the hang of touchscreens just yet.

Not to mention (again) that she's a _babe_. Claudia's finding it pretty hard to think right now with H.G. on top of her, touching her like that. H.G. ducks back down and begins kissing Claudia's neck, and Claudia inhales shakily, clutching at the back of H.G.'s jacket and holding her close. H.G. smells like a slightly weird mixture of warm metal and aged paperback books, sort of like an old library or science classroom, and Claudia finds it oddly intoxicating. Her lips are soft against Claudia's throat and Claudia squirms beneath her, her heart beating way too fast.

"So uh," she says nervously. Her voice comes out too high-pitched in her efforts to sound casual, like making out with science fiction writers from the past is the kind of thing she always does in her spare time. "Is this some part of some master plan of yours to like, seduce the whole team?"

H.G. laughs lightly. "Whatever do you mean?" she asks, not bothering to lift her head up to respond, still working her magic on Claudia's neck.

"Well, Pete told me you guys made out," Claudia says, her voice quavering just a little. "And I mean, I gotta break it to you, I don't think Artie's gonna be up for it."

H.G. pulls back, smirking. "Oh, so you think Myka would be?"

"Hey, I don't like how interested you sound," Claudia says hurriedly, grinning. She slides her hands down to H.G.'s hips and slips her thumbs through the belt loops of her pants, keeping her there. "Don't go running off to Myka all of a sudden, okay? I don't want you blue-balling me." She curses inwardly, realizing how presumptuous that sounds. Hopefully H.G. doesn't know what it means.

"I don't know what that means," says H.G., "but okay." She smiles and leans back in, kissing Claudia again softly with just a gentle brush of her lips. "Anyway," she adds wryly, "who's to say Myka hasn't already succumbed to my charms?"

Claudia just shrugs. It's not like she'd be surprised—Artie seems to be the only one around here who's completely immune to H.G.'s "charms".

"Don't worry, darling, right now is just about you and me," H.G. murmurs, apparently taking Claudia's shrug as a sign of insecurity. "Would it be all right if I undressed you?"

Claudia gulps. "Uh, _yeah_ ," she says, totally failing at trying not to sound too eager. She still feels like this is the kind of scenario that would pop up in one of her dreams, but she doesn't see any reason to back out now that it seems to be happening in real life. "Hang on," she says, reaching for her waistcoat and mentally cursing herself for deciding to wear layers today, "the buttons on this thing are kinda tricky."

"I think I'll manage," H.G. chuckles, taking over, and Claudia just thinks _fuck it_ and lets H.G.'s dexterous fingers do the work, sitting up when necessary so H.G. can help her out of the waistcoat and make quick work of her shirt too.

She struggles a bit with unhooking Claudia's bra, which Claudia almost mocks her for until she realizes that H.G. just hasn't gotten the hang of the little plastic fastenings yet. She makes up for the awkward fumbling behind Claudia's back by lavishing Claudia's breasts with kisses as soon as they're uncovered, teasing at the nipples with her tongue until Claudia is flushed and flustered, heat pooling between her thighs.

H.G. is heading in that direction before long, popping the button on Claudia's jeans and dragging down the zipper. For a moment Claudia is embarrassed by the slightly threadbare _Supergirl_ panties she's got on today, because H.G. is probably wearing like, satin or lace under her ridiculously well-fitting suit. (She hopes she's gonna get to find out.)

H.G. is smiling. "Underwear has definitely made some very sensible advancements since my time, hasn't it?" she remarks, conversationally, as she pulls the jeans down Claudia's legs. "No more corsets and all of that nonsense."

Claudia pictures H.G. being laced into a corset and slipping on all sorts of delicate, flimsy underthings. "Oh, I don't know," she says, swallowing, "that nonsense can be pretty sexy."

H.G. chuckles, tossing Claudia's jeans aside along with her socks. "You're very sweet."

"Oh good," says Claudia in a small voice. "Sweet enough to make you wanna take these off?" She hooks her thumbs into the bright red waistband of her panties, and raises an eyebrow in what she hopes is an alluring way.

"Definitely," replies H.G., gently replacing Claudia's hands with her own and tugging.

"You know, I haven't—I haven't done a whole lot of this kind of thing," Claudia admits nervously. "Just saying. Full disclosure and all that."

"Does that mean I ought to go easy on you?" asks H.G., looking a little mischievous as she untangles Claudia's underwear from her ankles.

Claudia is suddenly aware of how totally naked she is, so caught up in the actual process of being undressed that she momentarily forgot about the outcome somehow. The realization is distracting. "Uh," she says, struggling to think. "Uh. No? I think—no. I think I don't want you to."

H.G. smiles, crawling back up the bed over her. Claudia tilts her head up, looking for another kiss, and H.G. gives it to her, warm and soft as she trails a hand down between Claudia's thighs, so gentle that Claudia starts quivering, her skin feeling oversensitized. She's kind of embarrassed by how wet she is already, just from their making out, but as soon as H.G. touches her she stops caring. Two fingers skim down over her clit and then back again, and she gasps quietly.

"Wrap your legs around me," H.G. murmurs, their mouths still so close, and Claudia barely even hears her.

"What?" she asks vaguely, concentrating on trying not to squirm, H.G.'s fingers suddenly frustratingly still.

"Your legs, Claudia," H.G. says, and hearing her own name in that accent makes Claudia's brain go even more cloudy. "Wrap them around me."

Claudia does as she's told, and feeling the soft fabric of H.G.'s pants against her bare legs reminds her that she's the only one who's naked, H.G. still fully-dressed in her pristine suit. It makes her feel incredibly vulnerable, especially with the way she's got all her limbs wrapped around H.G. like this, like she's clinging to her—but she's high off the feeling at the same time, exhilarated. She can feel herself pulsing against H.G.'s fingers, _excited_ , and when she looks up, H.G. is smiling at her in a strangely fond sort of way.

"Is that good?" she asks, softly, moving her fingers in tight little circles, just the right amount of pressure to make Claudia desperate.

"Fuck," Claudia swears under her breath, feeling kind of lightheaded. "Yeah. That's really good." Her voice sounds dumb, trembly.

"Tsk. Language," says H.G. with a smirk.

"Really, H.G.?" says Claudia sardonically. "You're scolding me for my language when we're—" She breaks off sharply, sucking in a breath as H.G. presses her fingers down a little harder, rubbing more insistently against Claudia's clit. It's a moment before Claudia finds her voice again and manages to gasp out, "—doing _this_ ," and by then H.G. is no longer listening.

Though Claudia can't exactly say she cares. 

"You're really very beautiful, you know," H.G. says then, seemingly out of nowhere. Her fingers delve lower, one of them easing its way into Claudia's cunt ever so slowly. Claudia squirms, unable to think of a fittingly sarcastic response right now, and H.G. is grinning down at her almost smugly, her eye contact so intense that Claudia has to look away. "I mean it. Quite stunning. I thought so the very first time I met you."

"Quit it," says Claudia weakly. "You're making me blush."

"You _have_ gone a bit pink," H.G. agrees, sinking another finger inside of her. "It's rather fetching."

Claudia wonders how she manages to sound so blasé while she's got her hand between a nineteen year old's legs, but doesn't bother asking, because H.G.'s palm is nestled against her clit now and each time her fingers slide their way deeper it rubs, firm and sure, setting all her nerves alight. The back of H.G.'s hand is resting against her own crotch and her body is moving with Claudia's, the two of them rocking gently against each other, and it really feels like H.G. is _fucking_ her, way more than she expected it would.

She lets her hands move boldly down H.G.'s back to her ass, gripping the soft curve of it through her tight pants, holding on, shifting her hips back and forth in a clumsy rhythm to get H.G.'s fingers moving faster inside her. H.G. gets the hint and soon the two of them are rutting against each other more frantically, the springs of Claudia's mattress actually starting to creak. Claudia has her head buried in the crook of H.G.'s shoulder, breathing in her lovely smell, moaning softly against the warm skin of her neck. She's close, so close—she makes a needy sound in her throat, twisting and writhing beneath H.G., trying to get herself even closer.

"Don't stop," she hears herself demand in an urgent whisper, "I swear to everything holy, if you stop—"

Her sentence dies out as H.G.'s hand suddenly brings her over the edge. Claudia's muscles clench and her fingers grapple wildly at the other woman's body, and she bites her lip hard. She lets out a feeble sob, shuddering, and for a moment everything is sparkly.

The next thing she knows H.G. is cupping her face tenderly and kissing her slack mouth. Claudia blinks at her, kind of out of it, and lets her aching legs fall back from where they were locked tightly around H.G.'s waist. "You are _good_ at that, wow," she says breathlessly. "Your skills are many and varied, Agent Wells."

"Well, I must admit that an awful lot of things have changed since my day," replies H.G., "but luckily for us, the female genitals have stayed exactly the same." Claudia laughs at her, shaking her head. "By the way," H.G. goes on blithely, "that sound you made when you reached orgasm was absolutely adorable."

Claudia cringes, embarrassed. "Oh jeez, _don't_ ," she wails, turning her face into the pillow.

"I'm not trying to make you self-conscious," H.G. assures her, leaning in to nuzzle against her and kiss her neck again. "It was lovely." 

She pulls back and Claudia looks up at her. The hand that was between her legs a moment ago is gently curved over Claudia's hipbone now, and Claudia sees how the light catches H.G.'s fingers, glinting off the wetness on her skin. H.G. notices her looking, and brings the hand to her own mouth instead, raising her eyebrows a little as she pushes her fingers past her lips. Claudia makes a pathetic sound and tries to hide her face in the pillow again, shivering when she feels H.G. kissing her stomach a second later, making the muscles there tighten.

She looks up when she feels H.G. move away, and sees that she's getting to her feet all of a sudden. "Would you be all right just waiting here for me while I go and fetch something, darling?" H.G. asks, smoothing back her hair.

"I literally _just_ came and you're abandoning me already? Man, I was hoping for some spooning or something, at least." Claudia's teasing, really, but it _does_ feel kinda weird; she can't help but worry that H.G. might not come back.

H.G. just looks baffled and says "Some spoons?"

Claudia can't help but laugh at the expression on her face. "Never mind. No, it's fine. It's not like I can come with you, I don't think my legs are working right now," she says. "Just. Don't be long, okay?"

"Okay," H.G. smiles. "You just relax and get your breath back, I won't be a moment."

Claudia quickly pulls a blanket over herself haphazardly as she watches H.G. slip out the door, and then lies there for the next few (long) minutes, trying not to think about what she'll do if Myka chooses this moment to come and knock on her door, or if Pete comes barging in with a plate of cookies. She doesn't actually know where they are right now—when things are quiet, they often like to try spend some time away from the Warehouse and the B&B, but she doesn't remember either of them having any particular plans for today. She knows Leena and Artie are at the Warehouse, so she doesn't have to worry about them at least.

When the door _does_ finally open, Claudia startles, clutching the blanket tighter around herself, but it's just H.G. after all, true to her word. She locks the door behind her and when she turns back around Claudia sees that she's holding something beneath her jacket, tucked away out of sight.

"Sorry," she says, "I ran into Pete in the hallway. Awfully _nosy_ sometimes, isn't he?"

"Uh," says Claudia nervously, alarmed to hear that Pete _is_ around after all. "You didn't tell him what we were doing, right?"

"Oh, no," H.G. assures her. "He thinks you're teaching me about instant messaging. I told him I'm finding it terribly complicated and we're not to be disturbed." She winks. "I suppose it's a blessing I didn't cross paths with Artie, really, I'm sure he would have insisted I show him this."

She pulls out the mysterious object she's been hiding, and Claudia sees now that it's an extremely _phallic_ object. It has a grip like a handgun, made of ornately carved wood and covered in various little switches and dials, and the rest basically looks like some kind of steampunk dildo. It's made of a silvery metal, slightly curved with subtle ridges and ripples along the surface, and a defined head. Actually, all in all it looks kind of beautiful, and only a little bit dangerous. 

"Holy balls," says Claudia admiringly. "What is that? Is that an artifact? 'Cause, like—I had this _friend_ who accidentally activated a sex artifact once, and let's just say it didn't end well." She clears her throat shiftily.

"No, no, darling, this is my own creation," H.G. tells her, coming back over to sit on the bed. 

Claudia considers this for a moment, and then says, "Don't get me wrong, the fact that you made your own sex toy is like, _crazy_ hot, but uh, I'm not sure I really wanna use a vibrator from the 19th century, you know?" She wrinkles her nose. "I mean, no offense, but I might be better off with my electric toothbrush."

"Not to worry; this is one of my _modern_ inventions. And I think you'll find it's far superior to today's sexual aids." H.G. smiles fondly down at the toy, and then a slight wistfulness seems to come over her. "You know," she says with a sigh, "I really thought we'd have come farther in that area by now, but I suppose female pleasure is never going to be a priority for scientists. Shame, really."

"Been doing a lot of research on that subject since you came back, huh?" Claudia teases. "I suppose a hundred years is a hell of a dry spell." She wonders whether H.G. has discovered porn yet—that's one of the wonders of the internet she left out. (Perhaps it should be the subject of their next lesson.) "You know, it's funny—I've been wondering what you get up to when you shut yourself in your room for hours. I didn't know if I should be worried about it, but now I know that _this_ is what you've been working on..."

"Oh, among other things," H.G. says, cutting her off, sort of brusque all of a sudden. "A bit of light relief from all the hard work, that's how I like to see it. There's an awful lot of things I'm tempted to play with in this century, it's difficult not to let oneself get distracted."

Claudia can't put her finger on it, but something in H.G.'s demeanor has changed quite abruptly. She seems distant, avoiding eye contact, and though she's smiling, it seems almost forced. Claudia wonders if she's been keeping herself busy tinkering with modern toys so as to avoid thinking about everything she left behind in her old life. She must feel sort of alienated sometimes, so far away from everyone and everything she once knew...Claudia feels sorry for her.

"Am _I_ one of those things you're tempted to play with?" she asks slyly, hoping to cheer her up a little.

H.G.'s lips twist; her smile becomes a genuine one. "Most certainly, my dear."

"Well, I'm up for round two as long as that thing is safe."

"Oh, perfectly."

"I'm just saying, if I die from letting H.G. Wells use her experimental sex inventions on me that's gonna be super embarrassing."

H.G. laughs. "That is definitely not my intention," she says, pulling back the blanket Claudia hastily covered herself with earlier. "I'm just interested in getting you to make that delightful little noise again."

Claudia rolls her eyes dramatically, flopping back against the mattress. H.G. takes this opportunity to nudge her knees apart, and Claudia lets her legs fall open, looking up at the other woman warily. H.G. is holding her creation like a weapon, and she looks strong and powerful, wielding it and wearing her suit, and Claudia feels vulnerable again, splayed out and naked on the bed in front of her. 

H.G. is so gentle, though, letting the tip of the toy graze the inside of Claudia's thigh before slowly trailing it over to her clit. Claudia is already trembling a little, and she jumps when the toy touches her there, the metal cold against the heat of her skin. 

"Okay?" H.G. asks, smiling warmly.

"Yeah."

"I'm going to turn it on."

"Knock yourself out."

H.G. flips one of the larger switches with her thumb, and turns a dial, and the machine thrums into life, buzzing and humming away where it's pressed against Claudia's clit. Claudia can't help but cry out, even though she told herself she wouldn't. She jerks away from the strong vibrations instinctively, but bucks right back against them a second later, coming back for more, her fingers clutching at the sheets. She wants to say something—she feels like she _should_ say something—but she's speechless. H.G. looks pretty proud of herself.

"Good?" she asks.

Claudia gulps. Her thighs are shaking and the pressure of the vibrator is almost painful, but not _quite_ enough to make her want it to stop. "Yeah, just—too much, I think," she manages to force out. Her forehead feels sweaty and she drags a hand back through her hair.

"Mmm," H.G. nods, flicking at the switch again so the vibrations stop. Claudia feels herself throbbing a little at the absence of them, despite the intensity. "It should be better inside, I think," H.G. continues, thoughtfully. "All fours is probably the best position."

Claudia splutters with laughter. "Doggystyle? Really? Wow, okay."

H.G. raises her eyebrows, grinning. "Is _that_ what you call it?"

"Man, I thought you Victorians were supposed to be all uptight about sex and stuff," Claudia says wryly, turning over and getting herself settled on her hands and knees. "This is all a little unpredictable."

"Well, I'm a very unpredictable person," comes H.G.'s response from behind her, her voice sounding more serious now.

"I'm learning that," Claudia replies quietly.

She still jumps when she feels the toy between her legs again, though.

H.G. settles herself over Claudia's body, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades, and slowly starts to push the toy inside of her, half-inch by half-inch. It's not large at all, really, but Claudia isn't used to this, and she tries to keep her breathing deep and even, her body relaxed. The shaft presses inside, filling her steadily, and she can feel all the little creases and bumps along its surface, the texture so unlike anything she's ever felt before, making her nerves tingle. 

Her body adjusts to the toy surprisingly quickly. She's wet enough to take it, and it almost feels like it's softening slightly inside of her, which is completely ridiculous because she's pretty sure it's _steel_. But it really doesn't feel like it anymore. It doesn't feel like a hard shaft of metal at all, in fact—it's firm, still, but it has some sort of give all of a sudden, as if it's actually molding itself to fit the shape of her.

"Uh, H.G.," she says, slightly apprehensive, "you sure this isn't an artifact? 'Cause it's feeling pretty magical right about now."

"Perhaps that's the magic of my engineering skills you're feeling," H.G. says (smugly, Claudia thinks). Then she eases the toy out a little ways and back in, fiddling with the assortment of controls on the grip until it begins to vibrate very gently, and Claudia moans, low and eager, twisting her hips, arousal surging through her body once again.

"A little more?" H.G. asks, flicking at a switch, and Claudia feels the toy start to _move_ , in a strange way, as if the head of it is turning in tiny circles inside of her, teasing.

"Oh my god, what—what _is_ that," Claudia gasps, and H.G. begins to move the toy with her hand as well, changing the angle just slightly and shallowly thrusting it so that Claudia can feel the movements of it _everywhere_. "Fuck," Claudia whines, her hips churning.

"My, you _do_ have a dirty mouth, don't you, dear?" H.G. remarks, looking amused. "Perhaps I ought to have gagged you."

Claudia gasps, drawing up fistfuls of the sheets, her hips jerking back as if of their own accord. "Jesus," she pants, "give a girl warning before you say stuff like that."

H.G. chuckles, drawing the length of the dildo almost fully out before plunging it back in, and Claudia moans and drops down onto her forearms on the bed, losing the strength to hold herself up. H.G. must start messing with the controls again because the toy suddenly feels like it's twisting and turning a little as well as gliding back and forth inside of her, the vibrations a dull throb sending her crazy. H.G. drives the shaft in and out, letting Claudia feel every strange sensation, the textured surface making her nerves tingle as it rubs against her flesh. She feels overheated, liquid fire between her thighs, and it's like her surroundings are starting to ebb away, fade out of sight, like nothing matters but the pleasure she's feeling right now.

Claudia rocks against the toy, her heart pounding in her ears and her breathing erratic. H.G. curls an arm around her, holding her but still allowing her to move the way she needs to, letting her bounce back onto the toy shamelessly. Her hand snakes down between Claudia's legs to touch a fingertip to her clit, sliding slickly over it just once—twice—and Claudia cries out and jerks wildly, coming sudden and violent, so hard she feels like she's gonna pass out. She spasms around the shaft of the toy, over and over, whimpering, the pleasure almost brutal.

H.G. keeps it up, working her through it, and before long Claudia is collapsed in a sweaty, trembling heap beneath her. She's vaguely aware of all the little knobs and switches on the vibrator being turned back to zero, and then H.G. is laying it gently at the end of the bed and helping Claudia out of her rather undignified, ass-in-the-air pose and onto her back. H.G. smoothes a hand over the sweat-slick skin of Claudia's stomach, and Claudia sighs happily at the touch.

"Good god, woman, that was Intense. With a capital I. No, actually, scratch that. ALL caps," says Claudia, her voice sounding a bit hoarse and raw.

"I'll take that as a compliment, shall I? Seal of approval from a fellow inventor?" H.G. laughs, and Claudia gives her a lazy thumbs-up. "Well, I must say, I do hope you're not _entirely_ incapacitated."

"Oh," says Claudia, realizing that _duh_ , she should probably be offering to reciprocate right about now. Not that she doesn't want to, she just feels kinda like she got hit by a truck at the moment (in a good way) and also she's sort of insanely nervous. But the thought of trying to make H.G. come apart like _she_ just did is an incredibly appealing one. "Oh," she says again, "no, I'm totally fine, I'm just—gimme a second and then it is _so_ your turn."

H.G. looks surprised. "Oh, sweetheart, that's not what I meant!" she says. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for—"

"No, I want to," Claudia interrupts, heaving herself into a sitting position. "I really really want to." She feels dazed all of a sudden, putting a hand to her forehead. "Wow, I didn't really realize how much I want to until right now, kinda bowled me over a little bit."

H.G. laughs, and Claudia pulls her in towards her decisively, kissing her and pushing her jacket down off her shoulders. H.G. slips out of it and Claudia hurriedly starts fumbling with the buttons of the shirt beneath. She's nervous and her fingers keep slipping, sweaty, and she figures this is probably the least suave undressing ever but as long as it ends with H.G. at least partially naked she figures it'll be successful. 

"We're not in any hurry, Claudia," H.G. reminds her, sounding amused.

"Well, _I_ am," Claudia replies, finally getting the last button undone and opening the shirt wide. She's distracted from taking it off, though, taking a moment to admire H.G.'s slim pale torso, the black bra she's wearing standing out starkly against her milky-white skin. "Front-clasp?" she observes, grinning.

H.G. smiles. "Yes. Brilliant idea, isn't it?"

"Yeah, actually," agrees Claudia, snapping the little clasp open easily with her thumb and forefinger. "Wow," she adds, approvingly, running her fingers lightly over the soft skin of H.G.'s full breasts.

She clumsily removes H.G.'s boots and socks next, and then undoes her pants and watches anxiously as the other woman slips out of them, exposing her pale, slender legs. "God, you're sexy," she says, biting her lip when she sees that she had the right idea about H.G.'s choice of panties—they're lacy and black, barely there. H.G. smirks at her and removes them herself, rolling them down her long long legs and off, before settling back on the bed quite comfortably, her head propped up against the pillows.

"Uh," says Claudia nervously, "so like—do you want me to use the thingamajig?"

"Actually, I'd much prefer your mouth, if you wouldn't mind," H.G. replies. "One can tire of machines sometimes, believe it or not."

"Oh!" says Claudia in surprise, flustered. "Oh, sure, yep, I can do that. I mean, probably. I never have before, but—"

"I'm sure you're a natural," H.G. tells her, winking, "with that quick tongue of yours."

H.G. spreads her legs for her, one of them draped over the edge of the bed, her foot dangling. Claudia sprawls out between them, her heart pounding away. It feels like it's somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, actually, which probably isn't healthy, but now doesn't seem to be the time to worry about that. She looks at H.G.'s cunt shyly, feeling embarrassed for staring even though H.G. is clearly happy to let her, enviably confident. Looking quickly leads to the desire to touch—she wants to feel that dark hair against her fingers and the heat of the skin beneath, to know what it tastes like.

"All right," she murmurs, "here goes. Stop me if I'm terrible."

H.G. laughs, but not cruelly, and the next thing Claudia knows she's got her mouth pressed against slick hot skin, feeling out a pulse with her tongue. She licks, sort of messy, her tongue sweeping over velvety-soft folds of skin, and for a moment she's scared that none of this is feeling good because H.G. is very quiet—but then there's a sharp intake of breath, and it sounds like victory. Claudia laps at H.G.'s clit, teasing it with the tip of her tongue like she knows what she's doing, and H.G. starts squirming a little, her breathing all out of whack.

"Mm, like that, darling," she says encouragingly, her voice hitching in a way Claudia thinks is far hotter than it should be. 

Claudia braces her hands on H.G.'s hips and doubles her efforts determinedly, looking up at H.G.'s face over the pale expanse of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. It's crazy, seeing her spread out on Claudia's own bed like this, _definitely_ something from right out of those dreams Claudia used to pretend she didn't have. H.G. looks pretty chill about it, like getting eaten out by a teenage tech-whiz is a regular occurrence in her life, and—well, Claudia wouldn't put it past her, to be honest. 

She's turning pink high in her cheeks as Claudia keeps slicking her tongue over her clit, and when Claudia suckles ever so gently, H.G. moans out loud and reaches down to run her fingers through Claudia's hair. Claudia does it again and this time H.G.'s fingers go tight, clutching, and a thrill runs through Claudia at the feel of it, at the knowledge that _she's_ the one making H.G. come unraveled. H.G. tugs gently at Claudia's hair as if to urge her on, and Claudia gets brave, strokes a finger through the slick folds below her mouth and pushes, feels it sink into tight wet heat. H.G. squirms again, nodding, her breath catching in her throat, and Claudia starts fucking her with her finger, curling it just a little as she keeps working at the hot hard bud under her tongue.

It doesn't take long; Claudia's not even tired yet when H.G. starts pushing up against her mouth, moaning softly and squeezing her eyes shut, her face screwed up in gorgeous pleasure. Claudia feels her striving for it, and gets her there, drags the flat of her tongue roughly over H.G.'s clit and slides her finger deep, and H.G.'s back arches high all of a sudden and her muscles lock up and then quiver, out of control. 

It's so amazing to see that Claudia immediately wants to make it happen again, but H.G. probably needs some time to recover, so Claudia just smiles triumphantly into the slick skin around her mouth and rubs soothingly at H.G.'s hips. H.G. stops shaking, eventually, and Claudia is thrilled to see how flushed and sweaty she looks, her usually perfect hair slightly wild where it's almost entirely fallen out of its bun. She smiles down at Claudia, looking sleepy and sated and beautiful.

"I totally made you come," says Claudia, sitting up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "That is _so awesome_. Go me!"

"Indeed," H.G. agrees, laughing. "You did a wonderful job."

"I mean, first time and everything! Maybe I _am_ a natural. Claudia Donovan: world-class carpet-muncher."

"That sounds unpleasant," H.G. replies, sort of tiredly, and Claudia figures maybe now's not the time for bragging. She retrieves the blanket from its heap at the end of the bed, and then slumps down next to H.G., spreading it out over the two of them. She realizes then that she's a little bit sore, which also makes her feel kind of awesome for some reason.

"And you, I mean, wowzers," she goes on, kinda basking in the glow of their kickass sex adventures, "I admit I don't have much to compare you to, but for a chick who's like a hundred and fifty, you are a _firecracker_ in bed."

H.G. laughs, a pleasing little trill of a sound. "I could say the same about you, darling," she replies, turning to give Claudia a peck on the lips. "And believe you me, I've had my fair share of experience."

Claudia beams, snuggling down under the blanket, and decides to worry about the consequences of all of this later. After a nap. And maybe a snack, too.


End file.
